The Enchanted Greenhouse(16)

She supposed it was appropriate. Her whole life had been a series of mistakes, one after another: a mistake to leave Eano for a hazy dream of a future with purpose, a mistake to think she could make it at the Great Library, a mistake to create Caz.

The magic wasn’t a mistake. Getting caught was the mistake.

She took a breath and asked the question she should have asked the moment she woke, the one she knew would have an answer she wouldn’t like: “Could you tell me … That is, I need to know … What year is it?”

Yarrow gave her a curious look. “Imperial year 857.”

She’d half expected it. All that time on the pedestal … All the days that drifted into more days, the darkness that melted into the next night … She knew it had been more than a year. She’d guessed three, four at most.

Six, though. Six was a blow.

Terlu felt herself start to shake. Six years. She supposed she hadn’t aged while she’d been made of wood. But her family … Everyone she knew … A lot could happen in six years. Was Rijes Velk still the head librarian? Were any of the librarians she knew still there? What had changed in the world since she’d been absent from it? Was her family well? What had she missed?

“Are you all right?” Yarrow asked, his voice gentle for the first time.

Keep it together. Squeezing her hands into fists until she felt her fingernails digging into her palms, Terlu forced herself to smile. “Yes, of course.”

He studied her as if he didn’t believe her.

She changed the subject as dramatically as she could. “What happened to the sorcerer who created all this?” Terlu swept her arms open to encompass the entirety of the greenhouse complex, and Emeral squawked in objection. She scratched his cheek, and he leaned into her fingers and settled down again. His feathers tickled her neck.

“He died,” Yarrow said.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

He shrugged in response.

Kneeling by one of the cacti beds, he stuck his finger into the sand. He pulled it out and then poked another area. Belatedly realizing she was staring at him, he explained, “Checking moisture levels. It’s fine.”

“Ahh. All the plants in the dead greenhouses…”

“It happened too fast, too widespread. It froze so quickly…” She heard the pain in his voice. “I saved as many as I could. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.”

Terlu knew what that felt like, failure. She tried to think of something to ask or say and all she could think of was to repeat, “I’m sorry for your loss.” She hoped it came through in her voice how much she truly meant it.

This time, he looked up at her. “Thank you.”

She was also sorry she didn’t know how to help. She wished she were a sorcerer or at least knew something about gardening beyond the basics. “How many—”

“Half. More. Out of three hundred sixty-five greenhouses, one hundred ninety-one have failed. With some, when they failed, I was able to save the plants. But too many others … I need a sorcerer to recast the spells that keep the greenhouses whole and protected. I can’t do that myself.”

Terlu could hear how much he wished he could, and she wanted to reach out to him and take his hands—she didn’t know him well enough for that, though. She only knew his name. And she didn’t know if it would help him to be touched. Some people needed it; some people fell apart if you did. “If there’s anything I—”

“You were my hope,” he said.

She felt pierced through the heart. “I—”

Yarrow held up his hand. “It’s not your fault.”

Pressing closer to her cheek, Emeral purred harder, as if he sensed she was upset. She took a deep breath. She knew it wasn’t her fault—she hadn’t caused the greenhouses to fail, nor did she ever claim to be a sorcerer—but still …

“There’s no regular boat that comes to Belde,” Yarrow said, “but if I put up a flag, there’s a sailor who runs a regular supply ship that will stop by. I’ll pay her fee, enough to transport you home or wherever you want to go.”

Terlu didn’t know what to say to that. If someone had given her that offer on the day she’d been sentenced, she would have taken it. She would have happily gone anywhere to escape her fate, especially if she could’ve taken Caz with her. But now that she was free … Six years, she thought.

In a small voice, she said, “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

CHAPTER SIX

With the winged cat acting as her scarf, Terlu followed Yarrow through the greenhouses. He didn’t speak as he led. Just a gruff “Follow me” and then a few “hmms” and grunts as he paused to examine plants and flowers along the way. He took a different route than she had before, choosing a left fork in the rose room instead of going straight, and Terlu craned her neck to see the new greenhouses.

There was one devoted to miniature trees. Beneath the branches, she glimpsed tiny woodland creatures living beneath them: three-inch-tall deer, tiny rabbits, minuscule chipmunks.

Another greenhouse was dedicated entirely to moss and filled with iridescent butterflies.

A third was full of vegetables: tomatoes that had been coaxed to grow like trees, cucumbers and squashes that were suspended from a latticework near the ceiling, beds of carrots and lettuces in neat rows. It had the same kind of neatness and precision that she’d seen in Yarrow’s cottage, and she was certain he’d designed and planted everything in here. She wanted to ask him about it, as well as the tiny woodland animals, but he was already in the next room.